Tuesday, 24 June 2008


I had no title for this blog so I thought that this would have to do. Since finding out the terrible news about my education (those who know you'll know what I'm on about) I've gone through an array of feelings and frankly tears as well. My mind is now else where, I've become so easily irritated that its a joke and I've broken down three times in two weeks. Not trying to sound hard but like others in this life I've gone through some hot as hell shit and not shed too many tears but at this moment I am broken.
The raw honesty of my heartache has even surprised me too but well I'll deal with it because I will fight from every corner, noonie and crack. This will not end at this part of the race...no way. I won't back down but the pressure is so much and I'm weeping on the inside. Lord help me. This may be my own fault but this is something and I've got people's support which I'm more then grateful for but only I am my main piece of rock. Only I can get the work done primarily.

I've a lot more to say but well hmm I'll come back when I'm ready........
More tears, More fears and a painful wait of fate.........awaits me.

Sunday, 22 June 2008

Infatuation on the rails.

As my mind goes in overdrive thoughts swim like black tadpoles ready for action in the little container. Their tails are really swishy; not.Sea of gold, ivory and silver are in my thoughts.

The chain, the dress and studs are ready for a buy me pick up but the wallet runs dry like a sand road in my engine of dreams.
My head bops cause I'm a londoner; We all listen to our ipods and pretend to be engrossed in our music when we arre fully aware that we are rushing for nothing most of the time. We take out our oysters like their fire extinguishers in a array of flames and clutch them like oxygen tanks. I see you in the physical mixture of people rushing and heading for the central.

I feel so hot and see your kicks stamp out the ground which me feel more heat.The kicks are white dirty lacostes; hmm how odd.6ft man-boy, muscular but slim by the looks of the pink fred perry tennis top.A black cascade of locks that could be mistaken for a dark river.

Big eyes.

I bluntly follow you and stand near you at the west bound platform.And then the train comes after an agonizing 60 seconds; a lifetime on london's underground. We both go into the same space.My alien bold stare tries so hard not to meet you dreamy peepers but then you ask me for directions and chaos takes place in my brain.

To be continued......

Shall I let go of her?

Shall I stop, turn and listen for a change?
Should I have listened for a fucking change?
Or was this all really a lesson that jesus needed to show me.
My mind is not sure of my feelings, I'm a mixture of terrifyied, frightened and afraid of stark realities that my actions had made for the up and coming consequnce.It all could come to an end and I never even tried. It could all come to a halt but I never got to break in the car. She was an delicacy that I never really wanted to earn; I just used her for the namesake and pretended to myself that I wanted her. My foolishness and procrasination lost her and my final chance hangs in the balance.No work, bad play and ignorant bliss lost her for me.
I found out then fell in the black well of my ultimate nightmare.The nightmare of being exposed as a fraud; the exposure to my family and friends. The truth will reveal my true work worth as a sham.
Shall I fight or let her throw me through.Will I drown in the river of no s.status? Will it be that awful?
The paradise of comfy pre-work world may shut me out and all perks will be lost.
Shall I let go of her and find a new world?Or shall I fight and hold her tight until she takes me back. Even though I know deep deep down in that place that no one knows exists inside of me I don't even know if I really want her back.
My fingers are skinny and tight; my thought are loose and scattered.
Shall Ilet goof her.
Not even my salty tears can answer that one for this time.

A poem that says how she feels; Does anyone really know?

Bouncing off shit

At times my eyes want to weep and drown in their own deep stares.As I look in my mirror and stare the thoughts drive through my brain tissue and the wheels of my depression rip on the nerves all at once.

Hot pink,Fresh navy blue and Rouge red mix quickly like my mother's pounded
"Loan,credit card,uni results,are you a writer; no you're not,screw over, screw your self again, bad student, no companion, no life, shit job, do something, do something."
Do something.
Do something.
Done nothing.

Males of my dreams do not see me in theirs.I feel so doomed.
The forever unrequited, the eternal.Let me end this with salty son to follow.
My mind will swim in its musicIt will guide like it usually does; with its sense and instincts.
I'm listening to seeing sounds; no one knows how much its helping.

My eye is a brown golf ball,It swelled.
Good bye now,my coulour is fading into ashiness, good riddance to my red undertone...hello groggy grey.

Now I have awoken but hear my speech so I resume my sleep.


Itchy brown skin surrounding the eyes with red wrinkles and chestnut brown pupil.
A look of 'I only wanna look down slash fuck the world' is present in them.
I'm falling into my nightmare of no life and no love of nothing.
I feel raw
I feel raw.
bad slouch,
The failure of nonense.
What do I do?
What the fuck do I do!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Saturday, 31 May 2008

For the sake of it

I kiss his ebony silk for skin and stroke his bottom lip.
He waits for my mouth to travel to his cheek.

Then back again onto his eyelid.

His tender fingers are like butter; smooth yet light like whipped cream.

The papery softness of his skin reminds me of rice paper. Delicate with no wrinkle.

My six foot statue of natural blackness is my craving that I obsess over; His slim sculptured physic carved with muscle sends my thoughts to the naughty places.
Those black-brown saucers for eyes are bold with a glare of freshness.
I want him in my bed but to sleep beside me.

I want his sex

I want his mouth to go down on me

I want his mind. Its all a masterpiece.

The colour of his shirt won't stay in my mind long enough because all I can think about is how to get it off.

My mister doesn't want me though; He wants my friend.